


sky full of stars

by crackers4jenn



Category: Rhett & Link
Genre: First Time, Friendship/Love, Getting Together, Hand Jobs, M/M, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-26
Updated: 2016-07-26
Packaged: 2018-07-26 20:36:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7589176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crackers4jenn/pseuds/crackers4jenn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Camping in the dead of summer was Rhett's brilliant idea, and all because of a fight.</p>
            </blockquote>





	sky full of stars

**Author's Note:**

> The wives are mentioned. This takes place in current 'canon,' so if that's not your thing, please do skip. I also loosely play around with their ~history.

Camping in the dead of summer was Rhett's brilliant idea, and all because of a fight.

"Think about it," he'd said, and Link remembers the conversation so vividly because he'd been forehead deep inside the office toilet at the time thanks to a particularly nasty 'Will It' episode (meatballs were forever ruined on that day, let it be noted.) Rhett, having already dry heaved the last of his stomach's contents into the very same toilet only minutes before, was slouched in the door frame offering moral support, "--no one'll be there, it's like we'll be desert _gods_. We'll have the place to ourselves."

Link retched again. In his peripheral, Rhett was wincing sympathetically, Link liked to imagine anyway, but it was probably because the whole thing was so gross to watch.

"Let's just do it," Rhett said once Link's body had quit betraying him.

He rested his forehead on the rim of the toilet seat, purposely ignoring every brain cell cupping its hands and shouting ' _GERMS_!' at him. 

"You're not even making sense," he told Rhett. From the three rounds of vomiting, including the taped on-air one, he was sticky with sweat and his voice had turned raspy. "Your words aren't words, they're stupid, stupid sounds."

Rhett huffed out a laugh and came out of the doorway, into the bathroom. He ran the faucet and grabbed a wash cloth from the towel rack. "Camping, man. I think we should go."

"Today?"

Rhett snorted at Link's expense, but he also brought over that wet rag and slung it across Link's forehead.

"You been listening to anything I've been saying?"

"You mean before or after the pile'a nasty inside my stomach projectile vomited itself back outta me?"

"I think meatballs got ruined for me, I'm serious," Rhett complained, leaning against the sink counter. He started smacking his lips around. "My mouth still tastes like I'm being punished. Like regret and--" He sucked at his teeth, "--ugh, definitely duck penis."

Link's stomach immediately headed for the exit. He gagged into the toilet, to Rhett's soft laughter, losing the wet rag to the floor along the way.

"You're a jerk," he accused once he was sure nothing else was coming up. "You know what, screw you."

"Language, Neal," Rhett scolded mockingly. "You done yet? 'Cause, no offense, but it reeks something ugly in here."

"Yeah, that would be our combined regurgitated meals in the toilet bowl, genius. Flush the toilet."

"I'm not flushing, man, you're the one--"

"'Bout to vomit again if I gotta look at the insides--"

"You think I want to?"

"It's your puke too!"

"Yeah, but yours is on top, I don't wanna see that--"

"Just flush the toilet!"

"You flush!"

Link whipped his head to the side to glare. Rhett was towering over him, but with the specks of fresh vomit glistening wetly on his chin and the sweaty disarray of his hair, Link was the dominating force, and after a thirty-second long stare-off, Rhett caved first.

"You owe me," he made sure Link knew. With a grimace and some gagging noises of his own, Rhett jabbed at the handle until the thing successfully flushed.

Immediately Rhett spun back towards the sink and washed his hands. Link closed the lid to the toilet, wobbled to his feet, and joined Rhett at his side.

"Would you wait a--" Rhett started to whine when Link forced him out of the way and stuck his hands under the faucet, but Link ignored him, cupping a handful of water into his mouth to gargle. 

He spit that out into the sink after a few seconds of swishing, earning him a mild shove from Rhett.

"C'mon," Rhett scolded, but there wasn't any real heat in it. "You're such a 12-year old."

" _You're such a 12-year old_ ," Link mimicked under his breath, and then felt a surge of amusement when Rhett gave him the evil eye. "Would you relax? You're so mad. Just relax."

"Yeah, 'cause I'm trying to talk to you and you're being a jackass, as usual."

"Language," Link mocked back doing his Rhett impression, which was low-pitched and intentionally dumb-sounding.

"So, you're pissed. Still. You could just be an adult and say that, you know, instead of elementary-school-Link coming out--"

"Oh, screw you, man," Link spoke over him, cutting off the sink before Rhett could finish washing his hands. He brushed past, walking out of the bathroom, into their office across the hall. "If I'm elementary, what does that make you? I'll give you a hint: teat."

Rhett followed after him, mindful of their employees; he shut the door behind him, closing them in. Link had gone straight for the couch. He collapsed onto it with a weariness that wasn't restricted to just the unease headed for his bowels.

"I said I'm sorry," Rhett said right away, coming to a stop in front of Link, "I was out of line. I apologized. What else do you need from me? Freaking handwritten letter? 'Dear Link. I messed up. Quit being such a baby about it.'"

"See, you can't even--"

Annoyed, Link cut himself off.

"What?" Rhett demanded him to finish.

"That's your apology."

"So?"

In his smarmy newscaster voice, Link said, ""I was a dick, but hey, who cares, Link's being a baby! And in other news, I'm not actually sorry.'"

"I told you I was!"

"In the context of, 'you're being hypersensitive'--"

"Good freaking god, okay." Rhett dropped heavy onto the couch beside him, with nearly a whole cushion of space between them. "We can keep doing this if you want. We got four more hours on the clock, you wanna spend it like this, alright. Here we go."

"So it's my fault now? It's me acting one way and you acting differently, and you're obviously right and I'm wrong, is that it?"

"Jesus, Link, _I'm_ \--" he stressed, insisting on eye contact, overly-pronouncing it and the next part, " _sorry_. Genuinely. From my freaking soul, I swear it."

Link could hear the truth that time. 

Honestly, he wasn't even that pissed anymore at 'The Incident,' as his brain had come to acknowledge it, but ever since it happened, his and Rhett's relationship had been strained, and that culminated into many awkward episodes. The latest had been the tipping point, because where they should have come together as camaraderies in food challenge arms, they spent most of the episode subtly taking digs at the other. Probably the comment sections were going to be a freaking joy once those episodes eventually aired.

"Fine, I'm sorry too," Link gave back tiredly, meaning it, but mostly as a way to just move on. The times he'd ever been mad at Rhett, honest-to-god mad and not just annoyed, had only ever happened a handful of times in his life, but every time it was like fighting with Christy or something -- like it was going to take more than a few words to get over it.

"You know I was only joking," Rhett started, but Link felt his anxiety go from zero to ninety, like instantly a sensation of having his heart muscles squeezed by some invisible force gripped him, which had him up and on his feet.

Rhett trailed off and looked at him weirdly, only Link used the momentum as an excuse to get back to work. He headed for his side of the desk.

"This Ouija board skit ain't gonna write itself," he told Rhett, throwing him a backward glance over his shoulder, "unless you had more diary entries you wanted to hold hands and cry about--?"

Rhett shook his head at him, getting to his feet as well. It took longer, and was like watching a spider extend the lengths of its long, creepy limbs. "See, you can't even end a conversation like a normal person."

"How 'bout you take my _fist_ like a normal person," he sassed.

Rhett stopped in his tracks.

Link resaid those words in his mind and, yep. Dang it. "That didn't come out right."

"Ya think?"

"Shut up."

"' _Shut up_.'"

A few minutes later, once they were both seated and about to jump back into a work mindset, Rhett brought it up again. "So? You wanna?" 

"Wanna what?"

"Camping. Remember?"

"Do I remember the thing you asked me if I wanted to do while I was already doing a thing I definitely did not want to be doing? I mean ralphing. I was ralphing."

"Yeah, I was there, and so was I."

"I don't know. I mean, isn't it going to be hot?"

"Not tomorrow, man."

Link clicked open his email, jostling the mouse around for something to do. Rhett's stare was heavy on him. "It's sorta last minute, don't you think?"

"You think Christy won't let you?"

"She's not my sugar mama. She doesn't 'let' me do things. I wanna do something, I do it." Rhett's unblinking look across the desk told Link he didn't buy that for a second. "Fine, whatever, I'm her whatever you call it. Her kept boy. I gotta ask. Like you don't."

Link didn't even have to look at him to know Rhett was smirking, and smugly.

"I'll ask her," Link said primly. "It's called having manners."

"It's called somethin' alright," Rhett agreed.

"You're so dumb."

"Man, just text your wife and get permission, we gotta plan this right."

"You don't 'plan' camping, you dork."

"You do where we're going."

"Do I wanna know?"

"Remember my naked selfie?"

The fact that Rhett had dubbed it that was disturbing, but not as much as the fact that, yes, Link knew immediately which picture Rhett was talking about.

Sensing that, Rhett started grinning like a freak, nodding his head. "Yeahhhhh. We're going campin' in the mother-freaking desert, brother. Right by that same tree."

Link scoffed, but there was humor in it. "I don't think I wanna go if you're plannin' on replicating that selfie."

"Yup. Text her. We're going."

+++

So, that was the day before, and because Rhett's words tend to take on a declarative, if not prophetic, nature, it's two o'clock on a Wednesday and here Link is, already flashing his junk to Mother Nature.

That's because after hours of driving they've finally parked and Link's taking a much needed pee break; he gave Rhett a two-second warning before he turned toward a bush, dropped trou, and went about emptying his bladder.

"You're like a savage," Rhett accuses, staring. His tone is somewhere in between secondhand embarrassment and being impressed.

In response, Link lets out a vaguely pornographic groan that conveys the relief of the act as well as the count of fucks he currently gives, which is zero.

As expected, Rhett judges him palpably, but Link just grins at him over his shoulder and continues peeing. Eventually the eye contact takes on a weird tone that redirects Link's attention back to his own business. 

He's just finishing up as Rhett starts fishing their gear out of the car. With a shake to dry off and some careful tucking away of important body parts, Link zips back up and offers his help.

"Whoa whoa whoa," Rhett says right away, when Link grabs the cooler, "you didn't wash your hands, man, c'mon."

"Yeah, hence _camping_ ," Link responds dryly.

"I don't want your nasty pee germs on the cooler. Our food's in there."

"It's not like I put my wiener on the handle--"

"Oh, c'mon, seriously?"

Link starts chuckling. He makes his voice loud, like it's booming directly from the depths of his chest, dropping into a caveman persona. "Me pee hands. Me touch Rhett's food to make taste good."

"I will punch you right in the wiener you were just touching--"

"Yeah, to _pee_. Can we at least have this conversation while we're walking towards our campsite, by the way, 'cause I need to be like midway into this thing already and we haven't even started yet."

"Just grab the--" Rhett nods at the last pack beside the car, which is their rolled up sleeping bags, and Link goes for it.

"Pee hands carry bags to sleep in," he says. His voice slips almost into a Yoda impression with how hard he's trying not to bust out laughing at Rhett's glare.

"One minute in, and regrets. Immediately," Rhett tells him. But he's lighthearted about it and he's carrying most of their stuff and they've left the vicinity of the car, so Link accepts it with a grin.

+++

It's at least a million degrees out.

" _There_ ," Rhett says. He sounds so simultaneously victorious and on the edge of physical collapse that Link doesn't know whether to high-five him or check his cell phone reception lest he needs to call 911.

He settles on asking, "Your back okay?"

Rhett waves this off, saying, "What do you think? Cool, huh?" 

Jutting four-feet high, stood before Rhett is the tent he insisted on erecting solo, which, masturbation jokes aside, only took forty minutes and minimal blood, sweat, and tears to do. Link had unpacked everything else they brought and then, for the next 38 and a half minutes, watched Rhett's battle with nylon.

"Looks like a tent," Link says, minus the awe Rhett's fishing for.

Rhett spares him a brief glance. "A cool one. Look inside."

With a pointed, moody exhale, Link leaves the comfort of the log he's been perched on to do as Rhett asks. 

He has to drop to a crouch and crawl his way in, but once he's inside, it confirms what he already gathered from the outside.

"It's a tent," he repeats. 

Rhett shoves his way inside, forcing Link to make room. 

Link reassesses things. "A tent not big enough for two of us."

"Check it out," Rhett says, wiggling his finger through a tear in the back with way too much delight, almost like he's expecting a reaction out of Link.

"So, it rains, we're screwed. Great."

"Dude, are you serious right now? You seriously don't remember this?" Rhett's so insistent about it that Link's brain starts to recall a long forgotten memory right at the same time Rhett says it out loud. "You and me, campin' out in my backyard when we were like ten years old and Cole scared us half to death with that Freddy Krueger mask we thought was some Buies Creek little boy killer--"

"--you had that pocket knife from Christmas that you jabbed at him, like that was gonna actually _do_ something--"

"You're damn straight, son. I slashed clean through the tent 'cause I knew no little boy killer was gonna get us first, not if I had my knife--"

"--yeah, your _pocket_ knife."

Rhett finishes with a laugh, "I got grounded bad, you remember? A week with no Nintendo, and those days, that was basically solitary confinement. Plus my dad wouldn't let us use the tent anymore."

"Dang, Rhett," Link says. "This is that same tent? That's crazy."

"Last time I went back home, I found it in the garage with all my old basketball stuff."

"Dang."

"Look up."

Link is hit with a full-on nostalgic whammy when he sees the stars they drew on the ceiling of the tent with permanent markers more than twenty years ago. There's one that stands out more than the others, centered and smudged, one of its lines drawn a lot longer.

When he drops his gaze, Rhett's giving him the sort of look he's almost definitely giving back -- there's so much sentimentality packed into it, it feels like they unearthed their long lost blood oath, like it's that important.

"Man," Link says. There's a wild energy thrumming through him. "It's weird how I feel, instantly, like I'm 10-years old. I'm not even joking."

"I know, it's awesome."

For a few minutes longer, they hang out, silently soaking up the gravitas of having a relic from their childhood reappear in their adulthood, before Rhett climbs abruptly back out of the tent, ruining the mood.

"Food!" he bellows along the way.

+++

"We shoulda brought some of them old MREs with us," Link says, hungry for more than just gas station junk food. "We got a whole box at the studio."

"Hell no, you remember what the stuff actually tasted like? I'll stick with the jerky, thank you."

Link huffs out a small laugh. They're sitting around what would be a campfire if the California air wasn't so combustible these days but because of current drought conditions is only a ring of rocks framing a pile of sticks they collected for decorative purposes only.

"You want another protein bar?" Rhett asks him, looking over with concern.

Link feels warmed and looked after, and that manifests physically like a tiny jumpstart, like two clamps connected directly to his heart muscle, and a whole lotta electricity.

"Pass the jerky, brother."

+++

It's been two hours, not counting the first forty minutes. Link's laid out flat on the ground, nothing under him but the clothes on his back and dirt. His head is propped up on a small, flat rock that doesn't hurt too bad, digging into the back of his skull like it is, but even if it was gradually penetrating bone, he doubts he'd feel it considering how hot it is and how singularly that thought preoccupies him.

Rhett's sitting a few feet away, under the shade of the tree.

"Dude," Link says, the first thing either of them have said in some time. It's like the heat's made them lazy. He opens one of his closed eyes and peeks over at Rhett. "I'm dying out here."

"Yeah," Rhett huffs in that laughing way he does that pretty much implies Link's stupidity is all on him.

"This is what you did last time? This?"

Rhett just stares at him like he can't understand the point Link's trying to make. Which is: this might as well be torture, the two of them broiling out here under the hot California sun. Why would anyone voluntarily subject themselves to it?

"Get in the tent, if you don't like it," Rhett tells him, annoyingly reasonable about it, but also with this edge of impatience that picks at something inside Link because the implication there, as always, is that if Link doesn't enjoy something Rhett likes, he's being a baby.

Rhett sighs and gets up. Link opens both eyes to watch, squinting past the glare of the sun as all 6-foot-7 gangly inches of Rhett bends down to dig through their cooler. He winds up with a bottle of water.

Link's still got his eyes on him when Rhett uncaps the thing and gulps down a few long swallows, riveted for reasons his brain flat out refuses to acknowledge.

Finally Rhett heads over to Link, looking taller than ever the few seconds he lumbers over him before sitting down right beside him, shuffling up a whole heck of a lot of dirt in the process. Link fusses about it, but Rhett shuts him up by shoving the water bottle at him.

"Here," he says. "Drink."

Link sits up some, until he's leaning on his elbows, ignoring the grit that sticks to his sweaty _everything_. He swipes the water bottle, unable to drop the hostility from before. "I'm not a kid. I know to stay hydrated."

Rhett scoffs, then yanks the water bottle right back, right at the moment that Link was tipping it into his mouth. It sends some water dribbling down the side of Link's throat, and he's too surprised and then annoyed at first to appreciate how cold it is.

"Dammit, Rhett, what the--"

"Tilt your head back."

Link glares at him, pulling the wet t-shirt away from his skin. 

"I'm serious. Lay your head back down."

They battle it out silently for a solid fifteen seconds before Link decides, to hell with it. He doesn't have the energy to bicker. He lays back down like he was before, his head propped on the rock, his arms crossed on top of his chest. He breathes out his annoyance and cracks open an eye.

"Well?"

Rhett's leaning in a lot closer than he was just a second ago. Link almost rears back, but Rhett's started tipping the water bottle over him and his mind flicks over to that instead.

He barely even gets out the word " _Rhett,_ " in protest before Rhett cuts him off.

"Just trust me."

Those are some seriously loaded words. He does, implicitly, on just about everything, and has since some of his earliest formed memories. That's not in question. What is, however, is the fact that Rhett's about to pour a bottle of water on him, and how tense they've been around one another lately, he's not sure that's the best idea.

Only, Rhett does it so barely anything comes out at first. Just a trickle that splashes onto the exposed skin where the collar of Link's t-shirt meets his collarbone. Link breathes out a startled noise at the first feeling of _cold_. Then he looks up, looks at Rhett, and breathes out a similar noise for a whole different reason. He's so close. Like, hi-def sorta close.

Rhett's eyes dart down, lock onto his.

"Cold," Link blurts, caught staring.

"Close your eyes," Rhett directs him. "I'm gonna try something."

Link's already closed his eyes, but that 'I'm going to try something' has him peeking out of one again. "Just to clarify--is this gonna make me wanna punch you?"

Rhett snorts. "Probably," he answers, delightedly. "Dude, close your eyes, just let me do it."

Link obeys. "I didn't know we came out here for trust exercises. You coulda just said so."

Rhett doesn't say anything to that, which raises some red flags, but Link is committed to letting whatever's about to happen, happen. Trust, y'all.

A nervous energy thrums straight through him. Rhett's so close Link's catching the stale scent of his cologne that smells more like deodorized sweat at this point. That might have something to do with the fact that he's at armpit level with the guy, but, all things considered, it ain't half-bad.

"Okay," Rhett says softly, and that's all the warning Link has before another blast of cold wetness hits him right near that same spot as before.

"Ohhh," he says, wriggling his whole body. His voice is a lot higher than it needs to be. "S'cold."

Rhett guides the bottle so water's spilling lightly down the side of his jaw. Just a slow, steady trickle. It moves from there, to his temple, and when he feels it dripping down the side of his head, he can't help the full-body shudder.

"Feels good?" Rhett asks him.

"Tickles."

Rhett moves the bottle over Link's forehead, keeping it aimed so it mostly soaks his hair. He feels this refreshing blast of cold, and then, riding that, the warmth and heaviness of Rhett running his hand through Link's hair.

"Gotta get it all in there," he says by way of explanation, which, okay, that makes sense logically, but the reaction Link is having is not. He feels like he was roofied a ghost pepper, that's how wildly his heart is beating.

Rhett douses the other side of Link's head and neck, and that seems to drain the last of the water bottle, because nothing comes after.

Slowly, Link cracks open his eyes. It's almost too bright to see, but Rhett's angled in a way that blocks out most of the sun. "Done?" he asks.

Link didn't even realize Rhett's hand was still in his hair, not until Rhett pulls away fast enough to be obvious about it. He doesn't mention anything about that, though, saying instead, "Feeling any better?"

If weirded out and semi-turned on counts as 'better,' then yes, a resounding yes. But probably those are not thoughts you should admit to your best friend.

He pats the ground between them. "Lay down with me."

Rhett snorts out of his nose. "Why?"

"Trust," Link gives back easily, challengingly.

Rhett snorts again, quieter.

Then he chucks the water bottle behind them and joins Link on the dirt ground, grunting and groaning from his various aches and pains until he's laid out parallel to Link, matched up exactly except his legs shoot out like a whole extra half foot.

Rhett's head lulls towards Link. He doesn't have a rock to lay on like Link does.

" _Yeah_." Link nods, staring up, closing his eyes.

Rhett wiggles next to him, getting comfortable. A couple of moments pass.

"Mm," Rhett acknowledges.

A breeze picks up, dropping the temperature down a couple of notches. Link shivers and Rhett scoots closer. Link shivers again and Rhett breathes out slowly, dare he say contentedly.

+++

The first signs of the sun setting means they break the 'no technology' rule Rhett enforced on the drive down.

Link checks his phone and sees a couple of work-related email notifications, but those are easy to ignore considering his business partner is at his side. Well, not currently at his side literally. They took a half-hour nap, woke up uncomfortably close to one another, and have been overcompensating ever since by sticking to opposite ends of their designated campsite.

Rhett must be seeing the same thing because he slides his phone back into his pocket pretty quickly.

"No texts from the wife and kids?" Link asks.

"Nope," Rhett says, in a way that feels dodgy. 

"Everything okay?"

"Yup. You?" Rhett throws back.

Link pockets his phone purposefully, ignoring the way Rhett watches him do so.

"Yup," Link echoes.

+++

"It's so dark," Link whispers.

"Why are you whispering?" Rhett whispers back.

"Because--" Link keeps his voice low. "It's quiet, I dunno."

Rhett doesn't say anything. Link hears the rustling of his sleeping bag, like he's moving around inside of it, but besides that it's almost deafeningly silent.

And, like he said, dark. It's been ten minutes since they cut the light and his eyes still haven't adjusted to the pitch blackness around them.

Rhett says, "You remember that time we were camping out close by Jeremy Fisher's house 'cause there was that--"

Link knows immediately what he's talking about, "Old stump that looked like it was used as part of, like, _voodoo_ rituals, so we thought, why not _sleep_ right by the dang thing--"

"You remember that coyote we heard and thought it was some sorta monster in the woods?"

"You remember me crapping myself? Because I basically did the whole time we ran back to your house. I thought I was gonna die that night, legitimately."

Rhett is cracking up at the memory, which, looking back on, probably accounts for a lot of Link's distrust when it comes to potentially spooky nighttime things. They sprinted through the woods faster than Link remembers ever running before, his hand tangled in Rhett's even though they were twelve years old at the time and boys didn't hold other boys hands. He sure as hell wasn't gonna be separated in the dark from his friend with a potential killer after them, that's how all them scary movies started -- with two idiots running in the woods.

"My dad was so pissed," Rhett's still laughing. "I mean, we musta looked completely ridiculous busting into my house in the middle of the night after we told him I was staying over at your place."

"Why'd we do that again? 'Cause I told my mom I was staying the night at your place and you told yours you were sleeping at mine. We coulda just told them the truth but we figured---lie instead? What was our logic?"

"Honestly--" Link sees the shadow Rhett's hand makes as he swipes it through the air. "No idea. If I had to guess, I bet we thought it'd be cooler if our parents didn't know. Like we were getting away with something bad-ass."

"Figures we got scared and ran like two big babies. You lose Nintendo privilege over that too?"

" _Two_ weeks," Rhett confirms, like the sting of it still burns. "And my dad wouldn't let us hang out 'til like four days later."

"Oh yeah," Link says, and all of a sudden he remembers that. It was summer time, so it's not like they got to see each other at school. Link spent most of those days apart restless and not really understanding why, but as a grown man who's barely spent more than four days apart from Rhett now, he gets that it's just the way their friendship works. It's like they're tethered together where their souls are, and when they drift away from one another, that line gets taut, and when it gets taut, it's hard to remember they're individual people with individual lives until they're in each others company again and the line goes slack. They're about as bound to one another as it gets, and it's not obligation, so Link's never known what to make of it. 

Rhett says, with his voice a lot softer than it was only moments before, "That, honestly, was the worst. As far as my dad could do? No Nintendo, fine. Whooping? Okay. I probably deserved it. But anytime I got in trouble and he threatened that we couldn't hang out anymore, I got scared."

Link looks over at Rhett. He can't really see him. It's still so freaking dark. But he can sense Rhett looking back, and that's just as much of an anchor.

"Same, man. Not that my mom ever really disciplined me, but it's like for a while there if we got into any trouble from the dumb stuff we were doing, I always thought, 'oh man, am I gonna be able to see Rhett tomorrow?'" After a beat he asks, "You think that's weird?"

"No," Rhett answers immediately.

Link says, after another moment, "You think that's normal?"

"Probably not," Rhett answers after his own moment.

"Huh."

Link lets that hang there between them. His friendship with Rhett is singular and unique and as special, and at times more special, than the one he has with his wife, and he's kind of always based that on the longevity of it. But it's weird to think about how, even as a kid, he knew Rhett was special to him and he knew just as unshakably that he was special to Rhett. 

"So, this is a good time to mention I really am sorry--for before," Rhett says.

Even without him specifically mentioning The Incident, Link dreads that the topic's been brought up.

He's already aware he overreacted in the first place and this whole foray into nostalgia has done nothing but reaffirm that to him.

"I would never do a project without you, you do know that, don't you?" Rhett says.

Fine. They're talking about it, then. They're going to dredge up something Link has been more than happy to repress, mostly because whenever he tries to psychoanalyze his own feelings, he's uncomfortable with what it implies. Namely that their dependency on one another he's always assumed was mutual might just be one-sided after all.

"Link--" Rhett starts when Link's been quiet for too long, and again Link hears the rustle of a sleeping bag.

"I know," he insists.

"Do you? 'Cause I'm dead serious, I wouldn't. I wouldn't even _want_ to."

Okay. He knows that intuitively. But he also heard him on the phone last week talking with Tony about some guest spot on VEEP, and while a rational part of him acknowledges that Rhett's an adult who can do what he likes, a larger part thinks: tether. No denying, in that moment, stepping into their office and hearing Rhett excited about something Link wasn't part of and hadn't been invited in on, it felt tauter and more frayed than ever.

To distance himself from that, he says, "We're not some licensed duo, Rhett. There's no copyright here that says you can't be Rhett McLaughlin without Link Neal. You're your own person."

"You're not really hearing me."

"And you're not hearing me. I don't want this to feel like a job, man. Like I'm your work ball-and-chain?"

Rhett sits up. Link's eyes have adjusted enough that he can see the outline of him but not much more. 

"Link, you're my best friend."

"And you're my best friend, and that's why I'm saying if this ever starts to be a thing we're not doing for fun anymore, or for each other--"

"That's how you feel?"

"Not now, but, I mean, you're thinkin' it, otherwise you wouldn't have been joking with Tony--"

"Exactly, it was a joke--"

Link sits up too. There's a split second of disorientation that sends him tilting into Rhett's personal space, which is pretty minimal as it is considering the tight quarters, before he rights himself.

"Let's say it wasn't, though," he says. "Let's say it was real. I'd want you to tell me."

"Hold up. Are _you_ trying to tell me--?"

"Yes, Rhett, that's what this is. I booked a job on Mad Men. It went off the air a while ago, but I got it. Surprise!"

"I wish I _was_ doing a side project, you ass."

Link snorts. Rhett, after a beat, laughs out quietly too.

Then he says, "Look, I get that you don't really wanna talk about it, and that's fine, I don't really wanna have couples therapy out here in the desert anyway, but. I mean. I don't know how else to say all I want is for it to be you and me, forever. And Stevie and Jen and the rest of the crew, too, I guess, but mostly you--"

Link leans sideways and kisses Rhett quiet.

It's so sudden and out-of-nowhere that for a moment it feels like nothing is even happening. There isn't even any noise. Just, nothing. Then it's like _warpspeed_ hits. Link goes from feeling nothing, to feeling _everything_ ; the resistance of Rhett's mouth, the stubble of his beard, the wetness there because he was probably doing that lizard-licking thing he always does right before Link laid one on him--

Link pulls back in a panic, nearly toppling over.

"Um," he manages. He can't see Rhett to know what his face is saying. That makes him feel more anxious about the whole thing because if Rhett was looking confused, at least he could play the whole thing off as a practical joke. 'Ha ha ha, you talk too much, I had to kiss you to shut you up. Man, your breath reeks.' That sort of thing. But for all he knows, Rhett's over there mentally ripping up their blood oath, wondering how he's been friends with a freak like Link for so long.

Rhett, after the world's longest and most loaded pause, inches towards Link, and Link rears back like fists are about to fly. Rhett stops himself. Link's heart flutters around like a trapped bird. Rhett moves again and Link braces anew for a hit he probably deserves, but then the most confusing thing happens: Rhett kisses him back.

Softly, timidly, like he's testing the waters, Rhett presses his mouth against Link's mouth, and were Link currently capable of concurrent thoughts he might've better enjoyed the exact moment he started kissing back, but mostly he keeps finding himself on the precipice of a freakout.

Rhett's hands, big as they are, come up and anchor him there, each one cupping a side of Link's face and holding him in place. Which is right against his mouth. They still aren't really doing much more than exploring the feeling of their lips pressed together, but it's intimate in a way Link's not sure he's ever felt before. Yeah, the first time he ever went farther than under-the-shirt stuff with a girl was terrifying and exhilarating, but she wasn't his best friend, there wasn't anything on the line there except maybe an awkward breakup.

It feels _crazy_ that this is happening here, now, by all definitions of the word but most especially the clinical one. But he remembers that antsy feeling from before, from when Rhett was pouring water on him, how it was like every nerve ending inside his body was some livewire sparking electricity, and maybe the only crazy thing is that it took this long for him to finally crack. Because, here is a Charles Lincoln Neal life fact: he has been in love with his best friend Rhett since the moment he knew he was going to lose him one day. As soon as Rhett started liking girls and Link's thought was, 'well, I like _you_ ,' that was the moment he had his first life epiphany, followed by an early life crisis, rounded off with a definitive life zen.

It makes sense, then, that this is blowing his freaking mind.

Rhett pushes into the kiss a little more forcefully, opening his mouth, making this soft noise when things get a little wetter between them, and Link responds back enthusiastically. He slides a hand forward, past the bunched up thickness of a sleeping bag until he's able to feel Rhett's leg warm and bare beneath him. They'd stripped down to their boxers and shirts when they turned in for the night. At the time, that seemed habitual. Now, he wants to go back in time and kiss Rhett on the mouth all over again for preparing so wisely. 

Their kiss that had started out so tentatively has now reached the point that Link's got a reaction going on in more places than just the directly effected one. If a light were to shine on at the moment, Link's tented boxers would expose his current situation pretty indecently.

Still, Rhett's making it so he doesn't care, or, at least, so he doesn't worry he's the only one getting all worked up. Rhett's gripping the hair at the side of his head tightly, his fingers worked in and flexing, dragging him closer still, and the few seconds they break apart between kisses Link can feel the ragged puffs of Rhett's breath.

"Link," Rhett says when they break away a third time, resting his forehead against Link's like he needs a second to compose himself.

Link doesn't say anything because, honestly, what would probably come out would be a total moodkiller. It seems pretty doubtful that Rhett would respond well to Link's nervous, hysterical laughter.

Even so, Rhett swallows. He leans forward and kisses Link with no intention to take it any farther. Just a quick kiss.

After, he stops and breathes and says, "Hey."

Link's blood must be doing recordbreaking laps through him, with how fast his pulse is.

"You gonna say something?" 

Rhett's hands are so warm. Sweaty, too, because: Rhett. 

Link musters up a, "Hey yourself."

It makes Rhett laugh, and Rhett laughing at something Link's said or done has always had an instant uplifting effect on Link. Rhett kisses Link again, on his forehead, and lets him go, and Link appreciates that he can think a little more clearly now -- and he can, it's like being unplugged the second they lose that connection -- but now that he knows what it feels like to be touched by Rhett that way, he misses the contact instantly.

Rhett's pulling a little farther away, back to where he originally was, and the rest of the world starts coming back to Link in big, rapid chunks. Like, you know, the fact that he's a married father and so is Rhett. Like the fact that they're business partners. Like the fact that they may have just made the biggest mistake of their lives, even if it didn't feel that way while it was happening.

Link settles back down, tugging at his sleeping bag until he's cocooned back up. Rhett is doing the same.

Quiet, unbearably tense minutes pass this way, until Link can almost trick himself into believing none of that was real and what he experienced was a result of the heat earlier in the day. Good ol' sensory-overload hallucinations. People have those all the time, probably.

He faces the other way, shifting into his go-to sleeping position.

Then Rhett scoots forward in his sleeping bag. Link rolls around and watches him inchworm side-to-side until they're pressed together.

Rhett's face lights up in a smile that barely moves his mouth, but it brightens his whole entire face beautifully, and considering how dark it is in their tent, that says something about how freaking wonderful it is to have it aimed Link's way. He flops onto his back, staring at the ceiling, and then drops his head to look at Link again. "Hey."

Link busts out a matching smile, and his heart pounds ba-boom ba-boom ba-boom inside his chest again.

"You're such a dork," he tells Rhett.

Rhett smiles at him a beat longer, but it sobers up and that's another reminder of all the things Link's brain unleashed upon him just a few moments ago.

Finally, though, they start to relax. To fall asleep. And the only reason Link's able to drop off as quickly as he normally does is the reassurance in Rhett's body language: instead of lying corpse-like on his back like he tends to do when they're sharing a bed together, Rhett's on his side, facing Link. Leaning in.

Link dreams that night of Buies Creek. Of bicycle races, all-day truck rides, and home.

+++

The morning brings some serious heat to it, and he ain't talking the sexy kind.

Well, not _just_ the sexy kind.

Rhett, after all, is wrapped around Link like he decided sometime in the middle of the night that Link would suffice as a body pillow. Considering that they're both zipped up in their sleeping bags still, and California summers are no joke, Link wakes up already sweating.

Wakes up already something else, too -- last night replays in his mind with way more clarity in the daylight than when it had happened in real time in the dark. Probably because he can see Rhett, and seeing something at the same time his brain is acknowledging it happened is _intense_. Rhett's hair is all mussed up, his mouth's hanging open, there are these imprints from their sleeping bags all over his face, and all Link can focus on is how bad he wants to kiss him again to see if it'll feel anywhere near as good as it felt last night. 

He thinks about doing it. About leaning in -- he wouldn't even have to go very far, Rhett's literally right _there_ \-- he could slot his mouth over Rhett's like that's something they already do, have always done, but when he leans up, something about the familiarity of the movement, of rolling over first thing in the morning and seeking out his partner, drags him back into reality.

There is a larger picture here. There are other people to think about. As much as him and Rhett have been joking the last fifteen years of their life how married of a couple they are, Link's never gone home to him and visa versa. He goes home to someone he loves very much, and the idea of her finding out about what transpired during the night sends his mind racing with guilt and panic. It blows open even bigger: he thinks about his mom finding out, Rhett's parents, the rest of their families, the internet. That last thought isn't as important, obviously, he knows that, but 'internetainment duo: secretly gay for each other!!! two families ruined!!!' is not a headline he wants to read, ever.

By the time Rhett's stirring awake beside him, Link's dug himself a nice-sized mental trench he's trying to find a way to physically manifest so that he can climb inside of it and live out the rest of his life there, just a guy and his hole.

When Rhett's eyes flutter open, he searches for Link right away, and Link feels terrible all over again for how hopefully his emotions respond. You'd think they'd know by now after his morning of self-flagellation that Rhett was meant to firmly go back into the 'best friend/business partner' compartment and nowhere else.

Link's not giving him anything back except some strongly maintained eye contact, nothing soft or suggestive about it. No hello. No smiles. And Rhett wears his heart on his sleeve, so it's real easy to catch the way all understanding of the night before, and what it mutually meant between them, fizzles out and dies a sad, easily surrendered death right there in front of them.

Rhett winds up running a hand through his hair, staring up at the tent above them. He combs his fingers over his beard. Link stares at him.

A minute passes, and then two, and then Rhett heaves himself into a sitting position. He untangles himself out of his sleeping bag pretty quickly, gone and out the tent in the seconds it takes Link to process what's happening.

"Rhett," he calls after him, regret hitting him instantly, overwhelmingly.

Rhett doesn't come back.

+++

The next moment happens like this, internally:

Link thinks about his wife. He thinks about his kids. 

And then he thinks about Rhett and how intersected they all are (literally last week Rhett came over just to help with a science project, and it wasn't that many days before that that Link was at Rhett's place putting together a fort in his backyard.) He recalls, out of the blue, their two wives nudging him and Rhett under a doorway one Christmas, a piece of mistletoe hanging right there above them; they'd rolled their eyes and parted goodnaturedly, chocking it up to just another 'Rhett and Link are sooooo close' teasing, a dare, but something about it adds up now in a way it didn't then--

They knew. They already knew.

They already _know_.

Externally, that thought process looks a lot like this:

Link sits a good forty seconds in bewildered silence, then bolts up out of the tent.

He pushes past the entrance flap with hurried annoyance, going from shaded sweltering heat to straight up sun, which is disorienting enough he has to stop and recalibrate, but then he spots the tall line of Rhett's retreating back.

He shouts, "That's it?!" at him.

If Rhett's surprised Link's hollering after him, he doesn't show it. He just keeps walking, raising his voice loud enough to say, "Yep," right back.

"You deserve Tony!" Link yells at him. It's a tactic he didn't even know he was going with until it slipped on out. It works, though. Rhett stops and turns and gives him this look like there's no way what Link said makes any kind of sense. Fair. But.

"You heard me," Link says, stepping forward. He ignores the pebble his bare foot comes down on. "You're gonna walk away so easy, maybe I don't care anymore about _Rhett and Tony_." He says that last part more sarcastically and obnoxiously than he's ever said anything else in his life, and considering his personality defaults to both, that's saying something.

Rhett's full-on staring at Link like he's witnessing a nervous breakdown with no idea how or when to jump in. Like he can't tell if Link's pushing for a fight or offering up one last hail Mary in his own emotionally stilted way.

Link refuses to back down or offer up anything else, except a flare of his eyes that says: _balls in your court, brother._

Rhett comes around a little more squarely. He looks ridiculous; his hair's pressed down in unflattering tufts, his boxers are too short since his legs are a million miles long, he's got no shoes on; he also looks so good just standing there newly woken up, Link wonders how the heck he's been repressing this attraction for so long.

"That's your solution?" Rhett says finally. "We fight, and you try to push me off on _Tony_?"

Well. Repeated, it does sound stupid.

Rhett laughs. Not very loudly, and not for long, but it means something good, or at least Link thinks it does. Rhett comes a little closer. His eyes are pretty big, fake sincerity written all over the rest of his face.

"I should work with Tony. That's what you think." He doesn't phrase it as a question, but Link responds to it like one, defensive about it.

"If you're gonna bust outta here like you were, yeah."

Rhett steps forward, calculated and intense, his voice dropping into something serious. "Why do you think we're out here, Link, why do you think I pushed for this so hard?" He doesn't give Link any time to come up with an answer, instead needling him with, "Isn't it _weird_ I'm not freaking out over last night? I'm calm -- I'm freaking zen, buddy -- that should tip you off, shouldn't it."

Link's brain is scrambling to keep up. 

"Link," Rhett says. By now he's close enough Link's gotta look up to keep eye contact. "I'm _not_ freaking out."

It takes Link a bit to sort through the meaning of that. To hear it, decipher it, and then fully digest it. When he gets it, when everything clicks, some of the intensity in Rhett's face eases up.

"Jessie already figured it out," he tells Link, less aggressive than before. "I think she mighta known for a while, but this whole week, with you and me fighting more like a married couple than me and her, she just... I don't know, she knew."

"This was her idea?"

Link's having a hard time imagining how that conversation could've gone.

(Jessie: _Rhett, baby. I love you, I really do, but you need to go camping with Link, and don't come back 'til you've gone gay with that poor boy._

Okay, probably not. Probably a little more refined than that. Maybe,

Jessie: _Hey, stupid. He loves you._ )

Rhett's shaking his head at him, shutting down that train of thought. He breathes out a noise that isn't quite amusement, but it's close. "No, my wife did not pimp me out for the night, surprisingly. But when I told her what I was planning, that you and me were coming out here, she didn't ask me not to, so." He rolls his shoulders in a shrug.

If Link's catching this right, and he thinks he is -- what Rhett's telling him is fitting into what he already figured out himself like two sides of a puzzle, locking into place -- that their wives maybe haven't given them their blessing, but they definitely had some idea that whatever's been festering between him and Rhett since before either of them even entered the picture might finally culminate into something physical.

Link's probably looking like his mind's been blown, which makes sense; that's how he feels and he's never really been good at guarding his emotions. Rhett's staring down at the ground.

"I gotta call Christy," Link says eventually. Rhett whips his head up and nods in understanding, backing away.

He says, "Okay," sounding curt, distancing himself.

"Rhett," Link says to stop him. As soon as Rhett gives him his attention again, he tells him, "I'm not freaking out either. I mean. I was, earlier. This whole thing is freaky to even be happening. But, the way you said it before is how I mean it now--"

"You are so bad at this," Rhett marvels, chuckling softly. "Wow."

"I'm trying to do a love confession here," Link sasses. "Thanks for ruining it."

Rhett's smiling pretty big now, all that worry from only moments before just, poof. Gone.

"Sorry, sorry. I'm listening. Go."

"Well, now the mood's been broke. I can't get that back."

"What was coming after 'this is freaky,' was it gonna be something like, 'even though we're not gay'--"

Link shoves at Rhett, pushing his shoulder. Rhett goes with the movement easy, curling in and laughing.

"Way to be _stupid_ , stupid."

"Mmm. Keep talkin' love to me, baby."

Link shoves at him again, only this time Rhett wraps his fingers around his wrist before he can pull back. The moment goes from flirty innocence to straight up electrically charged.

It's _a lot_.

Gently tugging himself free, Link says quietly, "I really gotta call my wife."

Rhett gets it. He lets go and reaches up, cupping his hand to Link's jaw a moment before giving it a couple of friendly pats and pulling away. "Alright."

"Hey," Link says when Rhett starts heading off to give him some privacy. "I love you. Ya freak."

Rhett gives him the most genuine, beautiful smile back.

+++

Link's phone call with his wife goes pretty smoothly, all things considered.

"Do you love him?" she asks after they've already been talking a while, everything laid out in the open.

He admits that he does. Simple and to the point, and it kind of undercuts the hugeness of his feelings, but it's the truth.

"How long?" she asks.

"Um. Third grade?"

She makes a startled noise. "Geez, Link. That's a long time." She sounds sad for him, telling him that.

He knows. But boys didn't date their guy best friends when he was growing up, not unless you wanted to be looked at funny. And even if that possibility had existed, he doesn't know he would've ever taken it, considering he'd never want to risk losing Rhett as his friend.

"Christy," he tells her, "it doesn't have to mean anything if you don't want it to. I'm serious. I've been holding it in most of my life. We've got a good thing going here, if this messes that up in any way I don't think I could forgive myself--"

"Hey, hey, hey. Link. C'mon, give me a little credit here. You think I'm gonna let that happen? I like our family. Besides, know what I realized a long time ago? Rhett's a part of that. He's been a part of it since the start."

"Christy..."

"I've talked with Jessie about this a thousand times, I swear. She told me, that first time we ever met, that you boys loved each other, and I didn't believe it 'til a couple months later after I'd finally seen it myself. In a way, it makes it easier because it's always been a part of you'n me. I'm not threatened by it. I love you."

"I love you, too. So, so much."

"And you love Rhett."

"Yes," he admits it again, and it feels freeing and damning all at once.

"Okay, well. There. It's out there, and nothing's changed. Far as I can tell, the world's still spinning. Lemme look outside. Nope. No locusts."

"Why are you so good to me?"

"Baby, you're his. He's yours. Thank god he shares."

+++

Rhett, as expected, is at the car.

He's sitting in the driver's side with the door left open, his bare legs spilling out, bare feet touching gravel. He's fiddling with the radio when Link says, "Hey."

Immediately he stops what he's doing and stares.

Calmly, Link says, "Could you come with me?"

He doesn't wait for a reply. Just about-faces and heads back for their camp. The sound of a car door shutting and Rhett scrambling to follow is the only affirmation he gets.

"Link?" Rhett questions him when they get there, keeping some space between them. "Everything okay?"

Link gestures at the tent with his head. _Get in there_ , that nod says.

Rhett narrows his eyes at him, trying to figure out the game here, but he goes along willingly.

Link follows him in. "I was gonna do this at the car, but I figure, gotta protect the people."

"What people," Rhett starts to ask, but Link talks right over him.

"Public figures should definitely not indulge in public indecency," he says, and Rhett's looking at him with huge, round eyes that stay open right until the moment Link kisses him.

Rhett goes with the change instantly. There's no moment of hesitation this time, it's heated right from the very beginning, making it different than what happened the night before.

There's barely any room in the tent for two grown men to make out. Rhett hadn't even crawled in very far to begin with before Link had made his move. But Link takes charge of the situation, pushing Rhett down to the ground, distractedly shoving the bulk of the sleeping bags out of the way. Rhett's staring the whole time he lies down, watching Link in a way that makes him feel powerful and nervous in equal measures.

Rhett winds up positioning himself so he's got his hands folded and tucked beneath the back of his head in lieu of a pillow. Link half-expects a _you got tickets to the gun show_? joke, since it brings his muscles into view. For a few seconds they just look at each other, letting the tension ramp up.

When he can't take it any longer, Link presses closer, but he's got no idea how to go about things any further. He feels uncoordinated in ways he's not used to feeling during sex, considering how long he's been married and how natural the act's become.

Rhett frees a hand to run it up Link's bicep, squeezing when he gets to his shoulder. It does the trick, grounding him. He lays out next to Rhett, losing the contact along the way, but initiating it himself as soon as he's settled; he leans in for a kiss, sliding his hand up the side of Rhett's jaw. He's felt Rhett's beard a hundred times before during skits, wheel endings, and a few occasions when he's helped him trim the thing, but running his hand over it now, he thinks he might become addicted. The prickliness of it against his chin is something he's quickly become a fan of as well.

Turning towards him, Rhett sweeps his hand down Link's waist until he's got a palmful of ass, and then he _squeezes_. Link's reaction is automatic -- he pretty much humps Rhett on the spot, thrusting up like some ingrained Pavlovian response he didn't know he had 'til the bell went off. He almost feels embarrassed by how enthusiastically he behaves, but Rhett lets out this guttural-sounding groan that instead empowers him to do it again.

With some clumsiness due to hastiness, Rhett captures Link's mouth with his own again, rolling into him, dragging him close until there ain't a lick of space between them. Rhett can probably feel how willingly his body's responding. He knows that because he feels that eagerness right back, firmly nudging his thigh.

Rhett's fingers splay open a little more, digging further into the flesh of his left butt cheek, and even as his brain acknowledges that clinically (slash immaturely,) something much bigger comes wrecking its way in to FYI that, with a little bit of lube and a slight relocation of those digits, things could be getting pret-ty dang sexy right now. The idea of that turns him on so much, Rhett gets notified via the twitching of his dick, which demands to be paid attention to.

It doesn't take long at all for Rhett to comply. He lets go of the back side of Link and slips his hand instead around the front, reaching inside Link's boxers, wrapping his hand around him right away and jerking experimentally. Link's brain blitzes out and takes its sweet time coming back. When all his senses do finally return, it's to him moaning like a porn star straight into Rhett's open mouth, his fingers tugging the short hairs at the back of Rhett's head almost punishingly.

"Jesus, Rhett," he swears. He's so eager to share what he's feeling, he nearly knocks Rhett's hand out of the way to return the favor. He sticks his hand down Rhett's boxers, grips his dick, and squeezes. The sound Rhett makes is better than any music they've made together. It's a noise so full of pleasure, Link flushes, fighting the instinct to be embarrassed because he's hearing it, and wanting to make it happen again. Two guesses which wins out.

They forget that they could be kissing because now there's something way more intense to be doing: mutually jerking the other off. It takes all of Link's cognitive energy to do so efficiently without coming immediately.

The space is so cramped, they keep bumping arms. Rhett gets a good rhythm going pretty quickly, though, and Link mimics it so they aren't grazing knuckles every time one's going down and the other's coming up. 

"Mmm." Rhett's tongue pokes out, pushing his upper lip inside his mouth. "That feels -- fuck, that feels so good. _Link._ Yeah. Fuck."

Yeah. Link agrees.

Riding a moment of spontaneity, he pulls his hand free and pushes Rhett flat onto his back, disentangling Rhett's hand in the process. Rhett lifts his head up right away to ask what the heck has gotten into him, but not a single thing has the chance to come out because Link makes his intentions known pretty dang quickly: he straddles Rhett's thighs, tosses him a look that's all wiggling eyebrows and innuendo, and then tugs Rhett's boxers down far enough to expose him. Rhett chokes out a noise when Link wraps a hand around him, bends down, and sucks the tip of his dick into his mouth. 

Not a lot of it. He's pretty sure if he tried to fit the whole thing in he'd either gag unattractively or else induce the nervous breakdown that's been threatening to happen since last night. So, instead, because he's curious and because this has been at the peripheral of his mind since he was literally sixteen-years old and learned girls do it to guys all the time, he approaches the blow job from the perspective of a man exploring a new world for the first time; carefully, excitedly, driven by awe. The taste isn't half-bad, is the first thing he figures out. It's a mingling of precome and the au naturale flavor of Rhett, unclean from the day before. So, more than a little bit salty, but good. Real good. He could get addicted to this too. He pokes his tongue against the slit where all that precome is pearling; Rhett has a full-body reaction. He grabs onto Link's shoulders, arching his back, chin tilting towards the ceiling. 

Link pulls off. He wipes his mouth. "Good?" he asks.

Rhett's fingers dig in, scrunching Link's t-shirt up around his shoulderblades. " _So_ good. Don't stop."

He wasn't planning on it. Link starts up where he left off, with his tongue, only instead of enveloping Rhett, this time he licks from down where his hand's wrapped around the base of Rhett's dick, all the ways to the tip, and _then_ he opens wide and takes as much of him in as he can. Right away Rhett releases his grip on Link and runs his hands through his already messy hair, cursing quietly.

That lasts five minutes, tops, getting to the point that Rhett's squirming underneath him to keep from outright thrusting. Link doesn't think he would mind having his head held in place while Rhett fucked into his mouth. Rhett, though, prematurely stops that from happening, hauling Link up to kiss him passionately.

Rhett sneaks his arm between them, wrapping his hand around them both. Link groans into the kiss, and Rhett, already so close, squeezes tight until Link's right there with him. They roll their hips together a few times in a sloppy, rushed rhythm, and when Rhett breaks the kiss to suck a mark right below Link's jaw, Link's orgasm comes out of nowhere. Literally comes, spurts of it landing on their chests, on Rhett's hand, and Rhett regrips while Link's still in the midst of it, using the slick of Link's come to jerk a little faster until he's following right after. When Rhett comes, his whole body spasms before going stiff, and he stays locked in place, this red flush hitting his chest and up his straining neck.

By the time Rhett's relaxed again, Link's rolled off of him, tucked into the space at his side so close their arms are touching. Rhett's chest is rising and falling pretty heavily. So is Link's. Link's shirt isn't striped with come the way Rhett's is, though, and the sight of it almost catches the attention of his libido again, but his stamina matches his age. The most he gets out of it is a few twitches of his softening dick. 

Rhett grabs for Link's hand and latches on lightly, comfortingly.

Link's staring up at the tent above them, noticing the stars again as the rest of the world starts filtering back in. 

For a moment, through the haze of experiencing his first orgasm with Rhett, reality flickers and slides back a couple of decades, until Link's seeing through a static-y fog him and Rhett, both 10-years old, moving silently and in slow motion, wrestling with each other while they reached up as far as they could, Sharpies in hand, giggling and having the time of their lives.

A squeeze of Rhett's fingers brings him back.

His chest feels close to bursting from how raw his emotions are, how terrified he suddenly is for the change ahead. But then Rhett goes and smiles at him, soft and loving, and familiar, and he realizes he's been seeing it his whole life, it's the same one Rhett's been giving him since they were boys.

He closes his eyes to the peace now taking over; he feels Rhett at his side, where he's always been, and hears, very far away, the laughter that'd been in this tent all that time ago, hears it like the volume's barely turned on, but it's still so solidly _there_ he listens in.

Later they'll figure out what this all means. 

But for now.

He can remember that day in the tent clear as anything.

Ten-year old Rhett tackling ten-year old him to the ground because he wanted to be the first to draw a star, and because he thought it'd be funny.

("Rhett, you -- you giant freaking -- giant!" ten-year old Link yells, trying to worm his way out from beneath his best friend. "Get off!"

"Can't, I've died," ten-year old Rhett says, sagging completely limp. "I'm dead." He sticks his tongue out like that run-over raccoon they saw the one time.

Link shoves an elbow at him, thinking that'll dislodge him. It doesn't. Rhett's fully committed to this new stupid wrestling move he's been doing, where he pretends to be dead, and it's only because he's a little bit older and taller that Link's never been able to beat him yet anytime he pulls it.

He's suffocating under the weight of Rhett, trapped where it's a million degrees and stuffy because Rhett's breathing his nasty cereal breath all over him.

"You need to brush your teeth more," Link bites out by way of attack. Rhett's sensitive about hygiene things. Probably because his hands are always freaking sweat machines. 

Rhett breathes out like his whole mouth is a furnace, right in Link's face, blasting him with wet, sour heat.

"Rhett! Gross! That's nasty, you can't--" he wriggles under Rhett, arms flying, "--you can't _do_ that to people, you'll kill 'em!"

Rhett does it again, more exaggeratedly. His breath hits Link squarely on the back of his neck, and he feels again the grossness of it, but also, alarmingly, this brand new, never felt before tingle that starts in his toes and races up the whole length of him like fire on gasoline. The way his stomach goes _whoooosh_ is like being on a rollercoaster ride. He shudders and gets goosebumps on both his arms and he must make a noise like he's hurt or something because Rhett pulls off some, stretching over him until his elbows lock. 

"Link? You okay?"

Link throws an arm back until it connects solidly with some part of Rhett that Link can't see. But it's a good hit, it makes it so Link's able to scramble free.

"Don't _do_ that," he tells Rhett once they're both reared back on their knees, sitting on their heels. Link rubs the back of his neck where he can still feel the tingling. "You could kill a person for real, and then what? I bet you'd feel real dumb."

Rhett's been staring this whole time, eyes wide and scared like he's worried Link really got hurt. But by the time Link's finished laying into him, he's laughing, falling forward to shove Link's leg.

"Geez, Neal, I thought you were dying."

"I was! And don't call me that. You know my name."

"Charles. C - H - A - R--" he starts; this time it's Link rushing at Rhett to tackle him.

Ten minutes later, after nearly taking the entire tent down during their individual claims for victory, they're both lying on their backs, breathing out heavily, winded from all the roughhousing.

Rhett's hand flops to the side and he grabs for something. "Here," he says, reaching the Sharpie. He lobs it at Link, smacking him in the cheek with it. When Link slaps him on the arm in retaliation, he laughs, curling in to protect himself. "I'm being nice! You draw first. You'll probably do it better, anyway."

Link's whole chest feels like it's lit up with Christmas lights. He accepts the Sharpie with all the honor of someone being knighted. 

He says, "You're the better drawer and you know it, so be quiet. Your drawings are cool. I still got that one you did of us bein' superheroes. Remember that? I put it on my science book cover and Jason saw and said it was awesome."

Rhett's giving him this look like he appreciates what Link's saying. It's the truth. He wouldn't fib about that. Link's saved all of Rhett's drawings and he's gonna keep them his whole life so that one day when they're old he'll have them as mementos.

Anyway.

He stands up so he can reach the top of the tent better. Rhett stands too, but he's so tall he has to bend his back real weird-looking so his head doesn't poke a hole through the top.

They make eye contact before the first stroke of the marker. 

Holding his breath, Link concentrates so he doesn't screw things up, and draws the inaugural star, except he's barely even started when Rhett knocks into his hand on purpose, making him mess it up.

"Rhett!" 

Now it's ruined. Now they've got a star that looks nothing like a star's supposed to look.

Rhett's laughing, holding his hands up in a way that seems to think Link's gonna react physically. "Don't be mad."

"Well! You ruined it. Congratulations."

"It's not ruined. Look. It's fine. Just." He grabs the marker from Link and finishes the star off, connecting all of its points. It still has that one really long side, plus a smudge where Link's hand smeared the ink, but it doesn't look so stupid anymore.

"See?" Rhett says. "Now we both got to draw the first star so it makes it more awesome. You can draw the next. Promise I won't budge ya."

Link stares back untrustingly for long seconds, until Rhett starts laughing. Rhett's never broken any promises before so Link might as well believe him.

It takes fifteen minutes before they get the whole ceiling just right. At first Link thinks they should get out Rhett's dad's Encyclopedia Brittanicas so they can draw the constellations on, but Rhett says it'll look cooler if they draw it however they want to, like they're gods in charge of the whole universe. Link likes that idea a whole lot so it's what they do.

After they finish, they plop themselves on the ground and look up.

"Cooooollll," Link says in amazement, eyeballing each star in appreciation. There are so many that he can't remember anymore which ones he drew and which ones Rhett did, but the messed up star they both added parts to stands out more than any other.

"Captain, come in, Captain," Rhett says in a deep voice, impersonating one of them Star Trek characters he likes so much lately. "We've now entered space. Prepare to orbit."

Link immediately gets into character. He plays a guy called Larnold. That's not a real person on the show, he's one him and Rhett made up, which makes it funnier because then they can act any way they want. "I see an alien, sir. Dead ahead! He's got a butt for a face."

That makes Rhett giggle, which is why Link said it in the first place. Probably the only thing he likes in the world as much as he likes peanut butter is making Rhett laugh because Rhett doesn't laugh at just _anything_.

"I see it, Captain," Rhett is still laughing. "It's an enemy fighter from the alien clan... Buttface Fartmouths..."

That joke plays out for a solid fifteen minutes. It only ends when Rhett's almost peed himself twice and Link complains of his stomach hurting from laughing so much.

In the calm that follows, Rhett says, "Let's camp out tonight. Right here. You wanna?"

Link's still feeling giddy from their game. He says, "Sure, Buttface," and laughs, but Rhett only gives back a smile, rolling onto his back to stare at the stars again.

"Man, I do love this tent. I might live in it one day."

"You can't _live in a tent_."

"Says who?"

Link shrugs. He doesn't really know, but he's pretty sure people don't live in tents when they grow up. Otherwise, you'd see them around. 

"Well, I think I'm gonna no matter what anyone says. Want to live with me?"

Link's face scrunches up as he tries to imagine what that would be like. Yeah, the tent's got a lot of room but there aren't any beds. They could use their sleeping bags, but after a while their backs might hurt. Plus, bugs could crawl in real easily.

Rhett senses his hesitation. He slaps a hand at him that hits him in the shoulder. "DUDE." That's his newest thing, calling Link _dude_. Link doesn't know if he likes it or not because that's what he calls the other boys in their class, too, but it sounds cool sometimes. "Don't wimp out. It'll be so cool, especially because we put those stars up top."

The stars _are_ pretty awesome.

Link's starting to think Rhett's onto something. He usually has pretty genius ideas so it's no wonder this is a smart one too. But before he can commit to this future adulthood of living in a tent, Rhett gets distracted by something else.

He says, "We'll still be friends, right? When we're older? I mean, that's only like three years from now but a lot can change."

The way it comes out, it's like Rhett's got insight into something Link doesn't.

"What might change?"

"Well, girls, for one."

All the confusion Link's feeling over that must be coming through loud and clear because Rhett picks right up on it.

He stares pointedly at Link, smirking in a way Link's ever only seen him stare at food before. "Like you don't have a crush on someone at school. I bet you like Missy."

Link is legitimately embarrassed at the thought. He can feel his whole face heating up with a blush.

"I knew it! Link likes Missy, Link likes Missy--" Rhett sings, and Link has to sock him in the arm to get him to shut up.

"Gross, I do not!"

"Gross? Dude. She's a _babe_."

This is one of those times Link hates when Rhett talks like that. He only does it because he was born in California and he says that's how people talk over there, but Link knows he barely even lived there, so maybe he should talk like a person who lives in North Carolina should talk.

Rhett reads the look on Link's face, and the anger he's suddenly feeling.

"Fine," he lets up. "I'm just teasing ya, Link."

"Well, don't. And I don't like Missy, so shut up about that too."

"Geez. Okay. Don't spaz out."

"I'm not spazzing, you're just being dumb for no reason! I don't like any girls and I sure as heck ain't gonna let one ever make it so we're not friends anymore! So quit saying that."

"Alright, geez."

"Well," he demands, still in a mood, "are you gonna?" Rhett looks over at him like he needs him to elaborate, so he does. "Like a girl, I mean." _Make it so we're not friends anymore_ , is what he really wants to ask.

Rhett starts smirking that big smile again. "Maybe I already do."

Link feels his stomach lurch like a bad elevator ride. 

Rhett misinterprets his obvious anxiety for something else, getting defensive.

"I'm not tellin' who, so don't ask."

Like Link even wants to know. He can't help but wonder, though. What girl could Rhett possibly like? They're all so... _girly_. 

"Well," Rhett says, sagely, "if you don't have a crush yet, I guess that's good 'cause it means we'll stay friends a lot longer."

"What does liking some girl have to do with how long we're friends? That doesn't even make sense."

"How're we gonna live in a tent together if we both got wives?" Rhett asks him, getting heated about it like it's Link's fault they might one day be married. "You ever think about that? I'm just saying, if we're gonna be best friends forever, we gotta think of these things now. Don't you wanna stay best friends?"

"Of course!"

"Well, good. So do I."

Link's jealous and he doesn't know why. He doubts Rhett even likes anybody. And even if he did, he doubts he likes them more than he likes Link, otherwise he would've asked whoever it is to live in the tent with him instead of Link.

"Hey." Rhett props himself up so he can lean over Link. "Ask your mom about tonight. You think she'll let you stay?"

His mom lets him do a lot of things he wants to do, so probably. 

He's a little slow in answering, "I guess so," and that makes Rhett stare at him a little harder.

"You still mad?"

Anger whirls through him anew like a wind storm. He is mad and he doesn't even know why. Maybe because Rhett's _not._

"LINK," Rhett sighs. "You're my best friend 'til I die. So, just. Go ask your mom about tonight. And bring snacks when you come back, okay?"

"What kind?" he budges, perking up. "Fudge rounds?"

"Any!"

Link's climbing out of the tent, his ten-year old mind already racing ahead with how cool their night is going to be if his mom says yes, the drama from moments before already forgotten. 

Except he stops and looks back in.

"Rhett, you're my best friend too."

And then he zips out of the tent laser fast, running for his bike he parked against Rhett's house, replaying in his mind over and over again the soft, brilliant smile Rhett gave him back.)

**Author's Note:**

> I don't even know, you guys, I DON'T KNOW.


End file.
